


all things bright and beautiful

by kameo_chan



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: BOKU WA KAMI DA, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kameo_chan/pseuds/kameo_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team meets God. He's short, doesn't have much presence and has a soft spot for basketball and redheads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all things bright and beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> One day, I woke up and said to myself: But what if Kamiroko was real? Other than that, I have no excuse.

“Hang on,” says Hyuuga, shoving his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose with a practiced flick of his index finger. “Let me get this straight. You’re God?” 

“Yes,” answers Kuroko, perfectly deadpan. Really though, Hyuuga thinks, the toga would throw anyone off. 

“That actually explains a lot,” Kiyoshi adds thoughtfully, popping another piece of candy into his already overstuffed mouth. “The hair colour for one, at any rate.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” Hyuuga admonishes, and then, turning back to Kuroko, “So the whole misdirection thing?”

“I’m omnipresent,” Kuroko explains. “Also, it negates unwanted attention.” Hyuuga’s not sure why exactly this requires him to perch on top of Kagami’s shoulders, but then again, he’s neither omnipresent nor omnipotent. He’s sure Kantoku would know more about divine matters, anyway.

“Meaning you’re actually always here, and sometimes we just happen not to see you?” Izuki doesn’t look convinced. Hyuuga can’t blame him. 

“Yes and no,” Kuroko responds with a shrug. “I’m always here and never here. It’s a part of that whole, complicated I AM THAT I AM thing.”

“What you really are is freaking heavy for someone so skinny,” Kagami mutters, shifting to find a comfortable adjustment for Kuroko’s weight for the third time. “Get this over with already so that I can carry you back to the locker room!” Kuroko very pointedly doesn’t kick him in the ribs. Kagami very pointedly doesn’t let out a grunt of pain. 

“Hang on,” argues Koganei. “If you’re God, can’t you just let us win matches? I mean, I get that hard work and perseverance pays off, but the training is torture. Also, can’t you make Kantoku a bit nicer?” 

“It wouldn’t be exciting if we didn’t have to fight for the victory,” Kuroko reprimands sullenly, and even his beard looks reproachful. “Besides, it’s my creation, my rules. And no, sadly I can’t. I’ve tried.” Koganei opens his mouth to respond, thinks better of it and then deflates like a popped balloon. 

“If there are no more questions?” Kuroko looks expectantly at each of the senpai in turn. 

“Nope,” says Hyuuga.

“I don’t think so,” says Izuki.

“I believe in you, Kuroko-sama,” Kiyoshi supplies happily. At least he’ll never want for lack of faith, Hyuuga thinks ruefully. 

Mitobe raises an eyebrow. 

“Yes she does, Mitobe-senpai,” Kuroko says. “I wouldn’t have wasted fifteen minutes of our training regimen otherwise.” Mitobe nods, apparently mollified. 

“Great, now that everyone’s happy, could you get off? I’m gonna throw my shoulder if this goes on any longer,” Kagami grumbles. 

“Of course, Kagami-kun. Hut hut!” Kuroko says, digging his heels into Kagami’s sides, earning him a bellow of rage for his effort. And just like that, before any of them can even catch the angry tirade that’s bound to follow, they’re gone. 

“Huh. Fancy that, God’s a fifteen year old boy who likes redheads and basketball.” 

During the deep, ringing kind of silence that follows, none of them try to think too hard about what Izuki’s just said. 

“Wait, so does that make Kagami…?” Koganei doesn’t finish his sentence, suddenly too busy trying to fight off the hand Mitobe has clamped over his mouth. The silence settles in again and makes itself comfortable. No one contests its right to do so, at least not for the first five minutes. 

Eventually, Hyuuga sniffs and pushes his glasses up again. “At least it’s not Aomine,” he says decisively. 

“Amen to that,” the team choruses, before starting on their warm-ups.


End file.
